


promises, promises

by ohlawsons



Series: steal the stars [1]
Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M, no plot spoilers past kadara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-13 02:17:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10504368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohlawsons/pseuds/ohlawsons
Summary: Reyes knew all about the Pathfinder before he ever met her. He knew all about her supposed exploits and triumphs in the name of the Initiative, knew all about the alliances she'd secured and the trails she'd blazed.He'd expected the bravado and charisma -- hehadn'texpected the crooked grin that was as much an offer as it was a promise.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i had my heart set on suvi and then this cocky motherfucker came along and, well, sophie can't take no for an answer and here we are
> 
> i was really trying to wait until finishing the game to write anything, but between work and the sheer size of andromeda, i have no idea when i'll actually finish. so hey! fic!

He knew who she was before she ever landed on Kadara, of course.

Sophie Ryder, the Pathfinder, simultaneously humanity’s greatest hope and greatest nuisance — depending on who you talked to. Reyes’ contacts in the Angaran Resistance seemed tentatively hopeful themselves, if a bit wary. The opinions of his contacts among the exiles were… more divided, but there was no questioning that this _Ryder_ had made more progress for the Nexus in the months since she’d arrived than the rest of the Initiative ever had.

Still, Reyes would withhold judgment until he actually met her and saw what she was capable of. He knew better than to put _too_ much stock into rumors.

There was a meeting location and time and even a codename, all arranged by the Resistance; Reyes arrived early and settled into a back table at Kralla’s Song, not even bothering to order a drink for the sake of blending in. It would go relatively untouched, anyway — this was business, after all. Besides, people here knew him, knew what he did, and meeting with a business contact wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary, not for Reyes. He scanned the crowd, leaning back with his arms crossed, not entirely certain what to expect from Ryder. She looked good on the vids, and seemed to hold her composure well during the few interviews and reports that had made it out to Kadara. He had a mind to send her up against Sloane — not directly, of course, not yet — under the guise of an attempt at negotiations, just so he could see if the Collective could one day have an ally against her and the Outcasts.

Besides, Sloane had Vehn Terev, Ryder’s target. He didn’t figure it would be too difficult to convince Ryder to give talking a chance — not that it would _work_ , knowing Sloane, but Reyes was already working on an alternative and the meeting’s outcome would allow him to better gauge Ryder.

But he had to _meet_ her, first.

He knew the Tempest had docked that morning, and yet it was nearing twenty minutes past the agreed upon time. Reyes was debating leaving and reaching out to Ryder on his own when the door swung open, and down the steps came a krogan and a woman that could only be the Pathfinder; she had the Andromeda Initiative logo stamped all over her clothes — even on the thick sunglasses she pushed up onto her head as she walked in — and she moved with a sort of unguarded casualness that wasn’t common in Kadara, especially not for someone who was neither armored nor openly aligned with Sloane.

Either Ryder had no idea what she was getting into on Kadara, or she had enough confidence in her abilities to not be bothered by the fact that she was unarmed, with only a hoodie and sweats as protection.

Or, maybe, it was the krogan at her side.

The pair went straight for the bar, and Ryder ordered a beer despite her eyes remaining focused on a bottle of whiskey just past Umi’s shoulder. She took a long drink then gave the krogan a shove towards one of the tables — which knocked Ryder back but didn’t even seem to faze the krogan — and grinned as she took a seat at the bar. She ran a hand through her hair, ruffling the loose curls that fell to just above her shoulders, and for a moment Reyes caught sight of a geometric tattoo that ran across the line of her jaw, the cool blue of its pattern contrasting sharply with the warm brown of her skin. Then the hair fell back into place and Ryder seemed to sense his gaze; she cocked her head to the side to look towards him, one eyebrow raising in interest.

Reyes took that as an invitation. “You look like you’re waiting for someone,” he observed as he approached, leaning up against the bar beside Ryder. He motioned for Umi to pour them both some of the whiskey Ryder had been eyeing before, but as the asari rolled her eyes and grabbed the bottle, Ryder shook her head.

“This is _business_ drinking,” she said lightly, like it was a perfectly natural explanation, “ _but_ …” she drew the word out slowly as she turned back towards Reyes, eyes flicking conspicuously across his body. “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to put that offer on hold for a bit. My business shouldn’t take too long to finish up, and you might have a better line by then.” The corner of her lips curled up into something between a smirk and a genuine smile.

“Wasn’t a line.” He held out a hand to shake. “Shena, if you bother with codenames. Reyes Vidal, if you don’t.”

Ryder broke into a full grin at that, holding out her own hand. “ _Wasn_ _’t a line_ my ass. Pathfinder Sophie Ryder — but I’m guessing you know that.” She paused to take a drink, then leaned back with a frown, scrutinizing Reyes with eyes the color of whiskey and a gaze as hard as diamonds. “You’re not what I was expecting. Better looking. Less… angaran. The rest of the Resistance has been pretty solid so far — what about you?”

“Straight to business, then.” Reyes began to explain the situation, covering everything from his role with the Resistance (Ryder interrupted his clever and relatively innocent description of his involvement with a flat, _You_ _’re a smuggler_ ) to how Sloane and Terev fit into the picture. By the time he suggested that Ryder meet with Sloane in person, Reyes had ordered a second round of drinks for them both and Ryder was nodding along thoughtfully with his plan. “And in the case that Sloane chooses not to listen, I might have an alternative. I’ll talk to my contacts in the Resistance while you go to the Outcasts.”

Staring down at her drink, Ryder swirled the bottle in little circles and watched the liquid inside slosh around. “So, what are we talking — with Sloane? Is this like an Omega situation, or can I waltz right in?” She took a slow sip, brow furrowing in thought as she set the drink back down. “I’ll be totally up front with you,” she began, her tone lightening and losing any semblance of sincerity, “if anyone tries to shoot me, I’m out. I’m barely willing to take a bullet for the Initiative, so the Resistance can forget about it.”

“Sloane will want to know what a Pathfinder’s doing on Kadara,” Reyes offered simply, finding himself mirroring Ryder’s crooked grin.

“Great.” Ryder let out a huff of breath, her mood dropping visibly. “For future reference, I’m not great at the whole _diplomacy_ thing, so don’t get your hopes up.”

 He chuckled. “You’re in luck, then, because Sloane isn’t much of a diplomat.”

“Right. Cool. That’s _totally_ reassuring.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Leaving his half-finished drink, Reyes pushed off from the bar and turned to leave. If Sloane was as unwavering as Reyes knew she would be, and Ryder was as adamant as he hoped she would be, then he would need to have the details of his secondary plan figured out and in place relatively soon.

But before he took more than a few steps, Ryder called out his name. “Hey, how do I get in touch if this all goes sideways? Or if it works out and I want to make good on that offer from earlier?”

Reyes said nothing, pausing and turning just enough to give Ryder a little shrug and a wink. As he reached the stairs, he could just make out Ryder’s sharp, “Mother _fucker_ ,” presumably directed at him — though he wasn’t sure if it was because of his non-answer or the tab he’d left for her at the bar.

Either way, he was looking forward to the chance to make it up to her later.

* * *

 

Sophie was still holding the pistol out in front of her as she exited the throne room that Sloane called _Outcast Headquarters_. The spike in adrenaline and heart rate had triggered the automatic systems in her tech armor, and she used her free hand to pull up the interface on her omnitool and manually disable it. With a sigh and a frown, she handed off the gun to a (rightfully) confused and suspicious turian standing guard outside the Outcast building.

She had a whole list of things that had gone wrong, and Reyes was going to have to sit through her tirade unless she ran into one of her crew first.

One: Sloane had shot up to the top of Sophie’s shit list, just below the Archon, and politicians as a general category. Two: she’d hit on _and_ mocked Sloane in the same sentence, referring to her pseudo-royalty both times. So, okay, _maybe_ she’d sent some mixed signals, but that wasn’t any excuse for Sloane’s behavior. Three: she’d sent an armed guard towards Sophie, then pulled out her own gun when Sophie had disarmed the turian. Four: Sloane was rude, and despicable, and also _really_ hot.

For the second time that day, Sophie found herself wondering if there wasn’t something to Cora’s theory about being attracted to dangerous people.

By the time she’d made it to the markets and caught sight of Liam, Sophie had nearly calmed herself down. Most of the things that had gone wrong were her fault, really, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to hold it against Reyes for sending her there in the first place. She could spare Liam her ranting, though.

“I take it your meeting with the angaran contact didn’t go too well?”

“What? No. The contact’s great. It’s fucking _Sloane_ I have a problem with.”

“Sloane?” Liam repeated, brow furrowing. “Why is—” Something seemed to click in his mind, and Liam shook his head. “You didn’t. You _did_. You walked right up and talked to Sloane Kelley. What happened to, _Let_ _’s keep a low profile, we’re just here to meet a contact_?” he asked in a poor imitation of Sophie’s voice.

She gave her most innocent shrug. “I only did it for the Resistance. Our contact thought it would be a great idea for me to try and reason with _her majesty_ over there.” She glared at the headquarters building as she said the title. “Speaking of which, I need to find Reyes. He owes me. Big time.” Without waiting for any further input from Liam, Sophie grabbed him by the arm and ushered him through the crowded markets, heading towards Kralla’s Song since she had no other idea of where to even _start_ looking for Reyes.

She _did_ realize what a poor idea it was, dragging Liam along as her impulse control, but Vetra was no where in sight.

“Hang on,” Liam protested, easily keeping pace with Sophie, “who’s Reyes? Is that your contact?”

“Yeah, and a smug son of a bitch who doesn’t pay for his drinks.”

“Sounds like your kind of guy.” A pause, as he redirected a rather lost Sophie, pointing back the way they came towards the just-visible edge of the bar’s neon sign.

Now confident they were headed in the right direction, Sophie slowed to a more normal speed and relinquished her grip on Liam to elbow him in the side. “ _Ouch_. I say he’s smug and cheap and you think he’s my type?”

“But am I wrong?”

“Fuck you.” After a moment, she joined in with Liam’s resulting laughter, beginning to feel better despite the disastrous meeting with Sloane. “I don’t even know where I’m going,” she admitted as her laughter tapered off. “He didn’t even leave a way to contact him.”

Liam snickered, but to his credit he managed to hold back the rest of his laughter. “Yeah, _definitely_ your kind of guy.”

Sophie elbowed him again.

They’d nearly made it to the edge of the central market when she felt a presence at her other side, and looked over to see Reyes fall into step beside them. “Ryder,” he greeted coolly, sharing a sidelong glance and giving a half-cocked grin. Sophie let her gaze linger on his lips longer than strictly necessary, not bothering to hide her appreciation at his sudden appearance.

“Liam, Reyes. Reyes, Liam,” she introduced, still steering the group towards the bar. “You’ll be happy to know that your plan worked _great_. Sloane tried to shoot me and, as promised, I got the hell out of Dodge. I’m hoping you had better luck.”

“I did, in fact. Should we discuss it over drinks?”

“You buying? Because you owe me,” Sophie reminded him.

“Honestly?” He shrugged. “No. But I’m _sure_ you’ll think of other ways I can repay you.” Reyes’ voice remained even, but the implication was still _there_ , whether due to their earlier meeting or Sophie’s imagination, and she felt a surge of anticipation at the thought.

Liam cleared his throat. “ _Okay_. I can tell this is my cue to leave. But I can _also_ hear Cora’s disappointment that I didn’t stay to keep you on track, so… I was never here.”

“Deal.” She gave him a playful shove away from her, and Liam gave her a clap on the shoulder in return as he left. “So,” she turned towards Reyes as they entered Kralla’s Song, “you do all your business this way? Drinks, vague promises, and shitty information?”

Without an immediate answer, Reyes placed a hand on the small of her back, steering her through the bar to one of the back tables. “Do _you_?” he asked, grabbing one of the chairs for Sophie and slowly pulling away to sit opposite her. “And it’s _good_ information,” he promised, the sultry tone gone and replaced by one that was all business. “I know how to get your intel. You get to Terev, the Resistance picks him up.”

Sophie pursed her lips, trying not to show her disappointment in the change in conversation; Terev _was_ the real reason she was on Kadara, after all — Reyes was just a nice bonus. “Right, so what’s the plan? And what’s the backup for when it all goes to shit?” Reyes laughed at that, and Sophie did her best to commit the sound to memory while also paying attention to the important information. With the explanations finished and the details smoothed out, she leaned back and tapped her fingers along the edge of the table. By this time, it was just past sunset, and the bar was still relatively quiet and empty, and Sophie made a show of looking around. “So, if someone wanted to get out of here and find someplace a bit more lively…?”

Reyes gave a knowing nod. “Tartarus. I figured it would be more your speed. It’s down in the slums — hard to miss.” With a pointed glance at the datapad he’d handed over, he added, “You take care of Terev, and I’ll meet you there.”

 _Right. Clearly. Business first. Pleasure later._ “Sure. Because this’ll go off without a hitch, and I’ll have plenty of time for that tonight,” Sophie drawled as she stood, taking the datapad with her.

“Tomorrow, then,” Reyes suggested with another of those grins that drew in Sophie’s attention in a rather unfair way. “First round’s on me. Promise.”

“Don’t make promises you won’t keep, Vidal,” she called as she left, not even looking back. Slipping the datapad into the pocket of her hoodie to free her hands, Sophie pulled up her omnitool display to recalibrate her tech armor — just in case things _didn_ _’t_ go as planned, which seemed to be the norm in Andromeda so far. And despite herself, she was grinning even as she slid into the maintenance shaft, and it was only _partly_ because she was stealing a prisoner right out from under Sloane.

 


End file.
